Sweet Revenge
by Vegtam the Wanderer
Summary: Greece and Armenia trash Istanbul to get revenge on Turkey.


**These characters belong to Hidekaz Himaruya.**

Greece and Armenia were planning to kill Turkey. They had not conspired in any way, nor did they know what the other was planning. But, because of a bunch of meaningless coincidences, they ended up trying to do it on the same day.

Unfortunately, Turkey was actually visiting with Sweden that day. Why he went to see Sweden, no one knows, but it meant both Armenia and Greece could not assassinate him, much to their chagrin. Instead, Greece turned the Hagia Sophia back into a church again, throwing the minarets into the Mediterranean and repainting the walls with Byzantine murals. He knew nothing would piss Turkey off more.

Armenia incited a riot in Istanbul (over what is still unclear), but the entire city was trashed by the end of it. Among the casualties was Turkey's prime minister/ president (what ever Turkey has). He was blown up by a haphazardly thrown Molotov cocktail.

Armenia and Greece left, quite satisfied, at the damage they had done to their old enemy's capital city, though still wishing they could have killed him, too.

"Doesn't it feel great", said Greece, yawning. He was quite wasted; defacing an entire city does take quite a bit of energy.

"Still wish we'd have gotten him, though. The bastard,"said Armenia passionately. "My revenge is still not complete, Greece. He killed millions of my people."

"True. But tomorrow's another day, yeah?"

"Yeah."

Turkey got back to Istanbul at midnight that night, finding it ransacked and trashed. _Greece and Armenia_ , he thought, extremely annoyed.

He picked up the phone, dialed Greece, and waited an eternity for Greece to pick up.

"Yes? Do you need something?" said Greece with a yawn. He sounded rather relaxed, almost bored, which incensed the hell out of Turkey.

"You know what this is about, feta breath! Don't try to get smart with me!" Turkey screamed into the receiver. "You defaced the Hagia Sophia."

"You defaced the Hagia Sophia first. I just fixed it."

"Well, it's in my country now. I can do whatever I damn well please. I conquered this area thousands of years ago, fair and square. It is you who is defacing my property. Now, put the minarets back this instant, or I'll—"

"No," replied Greece curtly.

"No?" Turkey's head was about to fly from his shoulders, he was so mad.

"But you can go fishing for them. You like fishing, don't you? Lots and lots of fish," Greece drawled.

"Greece, I swear to almighty heaven above—" Greece hung up, leaving Turkey in mid threat. That godforsaken country. Just because he ruled over Constantinople thousands of years ago, doesn't mean he rules over Istanbul now. He had changed the name of the city to make sure of that. Alas, Turkey's efforts were futile. Greece absolutely refused to admit defeat.

Turkey went to bed, exhausted. It was a long day.

The next morning, Turkey awoke to the sound of shells dropping on his beloved capital city. He quickly got up, and without bothering to put on street clothes, went to go and address the situation.

By the time he got outside, the shelling had stopped, and there was a fighter jet parked (do planes park?) in front of his house. A dark haired, olive skinned man got out of the cockpit, followed by a ghost.

"Armenia."

"Turkey," replied the dark haired man, glaring at him with a look of pure hatred. "You're back from Sweden."

Turkey nodded. "You attacked my city yesterday, too, did you not? Stop bombing my city, you dastardly piece of dirt."

"I haven't exacted sufficient revenge."

"Oh, please. I was in a really bad place when I did that to you, so forgive and forget, right?"

"It's doubtful I'll ever forgive you, or I'll ever forget. Some wounds never heal." Armenia glared at Turkey, and Turkey withered under his gaze. "I brought someone with me," Armenia said, gesturing to the ghost. "He was very anxious to meet you."

"Who…who is that?" Turkey recognized the ghost, and it was definitely not good. But he asked because a) he was hoping he was wrong, and b) he wanted to quell his fears.

"You remember Emperor Justinian, yes?" Armenia gave Turkey a gleeful smirk as he watched his old enemy crumple.

"Emperor…Justinian?"

"Yes. You see, he isn't quite…ah, happy with the changes you made over the past thousand years to the city he most graciously constructed."

The ghost of Emperor Justinian glided forward, about to give Turkey a few choice words. Turkey bolted, and Justinian followed, yelling that Turkey had bedecked his city with heathenism. Armenia chuckled, got in his plane, and went back home. His work here was done.


End file.
